Hold On
by pumpkaboo
Summary: "Why do I get the feeling I'm wasting my life?" Jack says to no one in particular. Nothing new. The joys of living alone. TW; Mental Illness Anxiety Depression


"Why do I get the feeling I'm wasting my life?" Jack says to no one in particular. Nothing new. The joys of living alone.

He lays on the lounge, as he does on his days off, and literally does nothing. Okay. He gets up for meals, not that he really can be bothered eating anything. Occasionally he will make shitty instant coffee. He hates it so much he actually bothers putting milk with it.

He lets the plates pile up in the sink, ignoring the fact that mold has started growing on the ones that have been filled with water, but not cleaned. It doesn't bother him. He just lays around and waits for the day he has to go back to work. Usually two or three days later. Then he cleans everything in his apartment, lives off vending machine snacks from work for the next four-five days, and then the cycle repeats.

He can't remember when his life started being like this.

Well, maybe he does, but that was years ago. It wasn't like this either. He would leave the house, go to the diner for dinner, the bar with friends- what friends? He hadn't seen anyone in months... some of them years...

He enjoys nothing. The thought of calling someone and meeting up with them scares him. Where have you been all these months? No, if they had cared they would have called him, come by his place. He had been living in this damn apartment for three and a half years now.

No... it isn't their fault. The truth is he just hates everything.

He hates his job, but can't be bothered applying for a new one. He hates the fact that he never eats healthy, but can't afford it. He hates that he lives alone, but seeing people just irritates him.

Win, win. Lose, lose.

He rolls on his back. He doesn't even have the TV on. Just music playing from a laptop that occasionally overheats and shuts down. Why did it even do that?

He looked at his phone. He never even bothers with it anymore. About three months ago he checked it and there was nothing, no missed calls or texts. Not even an email from a friend. He can't even remember where the charger is. It isn't in his bedroom. That was where he thought he left it. He used to charge his phone while it sat on the bedside table. Well, not that any of that mattered. He had succeeded in unintentionally ghosting his friends.

He hadn't want to. It was just the way it was.

He should probably find that charger.

Not that he actually will.

Its hard when you want to do something, but you can't bring yourself to mentally, physically, do it.

Why do anything? No one gives a fuck.

Once you're out of someones life its not like they make an effort either. They just... move on. That is it. There is no hope in restoring it. Its just the way it is.

It all seemed simple at first. Just text them every now and again to show that they are still appreciated.

Soon even his few text messages where ignored when he couldn't make it for weekly drinks at the bar on Friday night for the fourth time in a row.

Prescriptions and alcohol don't mix.

Fucking warning labels.

It annoyed him so much he threw the fucking things in the bin and never refilled the script.

Never made him feel any fucking better anyway.

So that was it.

Work was his way of socializing, and even then he made zero effort.

Well, just because he stocked shelves at a supermarket didn't mean that he had to talk to people. They would ask where stuff was and he would tell them. That was it. There didn't need to be more communication than that.

He sometimes wished that life would change. Sometimes he wished it would stay the same. Day in, day out in this shithole fucking apartment wondering whether there was a point to any of this.

He doubted it.

Every. Fucking. Day.

But then he knew that it could be worse, but to him, how he felt, was the worst.

...

It only took him two days and calling in sick to work to get him to leave the apartment. He had no food and was starving after only drinking water and coffee for the last day and a half. He ignored the group of people moving in next door. It always seemed weird without Mrs. Howard living next door. She was an old lady who had to go to a nursing home, but apparently she had lived there for twenty two years. Not that Jack knew her personally. Hell, he couldn't even remember what she looked like and it had only been six months.

Time just became a blur. Every day was the same. Every hour dragged by. Everyone day becoming one.

He walked down the stairs to the first floor when he turned and bumped into someone who was definitely bigger than him.

"Sorry" said the auburn haired man.

Jack couldn't help but stare at him. Who was this man? He was definitely the same age as the other people. Were they all moving in together? The more he stared, the more he realized how close in age they probably were.

"Ah..." he looked at Jack as though he was some kind of psychopath who should most definitely be left alone.

Jack went to apologize, but the guy had already booked it upstairs.

Jack sighed. He didn't even know how to make conversation with someone. The guy said 'sorry' all he had to do was say 'that's okay' or 'don't worry about it' but instead he stared at the poor guy as though he was a two headed mutant.

Jack walked outside, pulling his jacket around his small frame. If he wasn't such a fuck up...

He made his way down the street to the convenience store. Fuck catching a bus to an actual grocery store. This was as far as he was willing to go, and it was only a five minute walk. He grabbed a packet of toaster pastries before seeing if they actually had any things he considered healthy. He almost died seeing apples, and grabbed them too. That would do him. He walked to the register and paid, not making eye contact with the clerk, not wanting to be so awkward in conversation.

By the time he arrived back at the apartment no one was carrying furniture next door, and no one was loitering in the corridor. He was happy with that. He pulled his key from his jeans pocket and unlocked the door. He was glad he hadn't seen anyone from work, let alone anyone he knew. That was a plus. He set the box down and washed and apple, taking a bite. He nodded and sat on the lounge. The fucking lounge. He didn't need any other furniture in his house. This was the only thing he ever used. He finished the apple and left the core on the coffee table. He was starving, but couldn't be fucked getting back up. What was the point? Even if he ate more now he would still be hungry later.

Hunger ended up getting the better of him and he ate another apple. He sat on the kitchen bench. No doubt he would still be hungry after this one too.

And he wasn't wrong. He basically devoured the pack of eight apples.

He sighed, looking at the lone pack of toaster pasties. That was it then. He almost jumped out of his skin when there was a knock at the door.

Shit. It could only be the landlord. He hadn't paid last weeks rent. He had the money, just hadn't bothered depositing it. He walked over to the door and opened it, since his room was devoid of a fucking peep hole. "Look, I've got the money... what?" he blushed, realizing that a) it wasn't the landlord, and b) it was the kid he had stared at earlier who had bumped into him. He blushed. "Uh..."

"Money? No, I just wanted to know if you had a phone charger I could borrow? My one managed to snap a cord during the move. Well, it was already almost broken anyway" he added, as though it would make a difference.

Jack blinked a few times. "Uh, no. No I don't."

"Sorry. I get it. You don't have to lend me one."

"Don't guilt me" he whispered, feeling a sickening anxiety build up in his stomach. Is that what this guy seriously thought?!

The guy, who still hadn't introduced himself and was after Jack's own stuff blinked a few times. "I... didn't realize I was. I just meant that its understandable that you don't want to lend someone you don't know one."

Jack slammed the door in his face. He knew it was rude, but he was going to be a blubbering mess of emotions. That was the longest conversation he had had with anybody in months. He couldn't do it. Anxiety welled in his stomach and his chest felt tight, restricting, his heart fought against the tensing. He gasped for breath as his head pounded and sure enough, dizziness ensued. He slid down the door, trying to breathe, to think positive thoughts, to do anything to make this feeling go away. After the panic attack subsided he knew he was just going to end up in a deeper depression for being so fucking useless.

"Are you okay in there?"

He feels his skin get clammy, sweaty. He pulled the damn jacket off, ignoring the man outside. He feels awful. He wants to throw up, but at the same time that is one of the things he hates most, so he doesn't want to. It isn't that he wants to throw up. He feels he needs to throw up. All it will be is the fucking apples he spent too much on. Fucking apples.

"Hey, so I need to call an ambulance?"

That snapped him out of his panic for a split second. There was no way in hell he could afford an ambulance or a doctor, but then he remembered the guy needed a phone charger so probably wouldn't waste battery on an emergency call.

"Hello!"

"No! I don't need an ambulance" he said, his heart rate dropping, surprising considering the situation.

"Talk to me. Stay with me."

"I... I don't want to."

"No, you're okay. You can do this" he said, although muffled through the door. "I know you can. You can do anything. You're stronger than you think."

He had never heard such calming things in his life. He blinked a few times as the warm voice filled his whole body.

"Yeah, you're gonna be just fine. You got this."

He actually cracked a smile. It was just a small one at the corner of his mouth, bit it was a smile nonetheless. He hadn't smiles in so long. It was the weirdest feeling.

"Hey, talk to me, what's your name?"

"Jackson."

"Nice. I'm Hiccup."

"Hiccup?" he replied, making sure he heard it right.

"Hiccup. Yep. So, are you feeling better?"

"Yeah... I think I am" he replied softly.

"What? I can't really hear through the door."

"I think so" he said, his whole body relaxed. What was this guy doing to him?

"Sorry I bumped into you earlier. I was just in a hurry to get everything in this room so my friends could get back to university. I felt really bad... but... I thought you were mad at me. Now I see you just don't cope so well. Sorry I didn't recognize that. Can... I talk to you face to face?"

Jack blinked a few times. Face to face? Seemed like a bad idea, but he was home, so he could easily retreat and hide. He swallowed hard stood up, opening the door. He sat back down on the threshold. He up at the man who was sitting across from him. He had such a kind, non-judgemental face covered in freckles and topped off with beautiful green eyes and a big round nose. Jack could feel himself smiling. Although he had stared at the guy before, he was too shocked to actually take in the details of the man. But he knew he liked what he saw. A small blush covered his face.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Jack just nodded. He knew he wouldn't be able to say anything comprehensible anyway.

He nodded. "Good. Well, I hope you're being honest with me. I am sorry for making you nervous earlier. Not my intent. Sometimes I just come off as a sarcastic little shit even though I'm trying to be nice" he admitted. "Sorry."

"I actually don't own a phone charger" Jack admitted.

"I shouldn't have even asked you. It was rude. I should just walk down to the convenience store and buy one" he sighed.

"But... if you hadn't... I probably would never have met you" Jack admitted quietly.

Hiccup smiled. "You happy about that?"

Jack could feel his blush deepen. "Yeah... I think I am."

Hiccup seemed happy with the response he got. "Good."

Jack shied away, looking at his knees.

"Hey, it's okay. Sorry. I'm not here to make you uncomfortable. We'll take things at your pace."

Jack looked up at him.

Hiccup smiled. "Just... I want you to know that if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm right next door. Okay?"

Jack nodded. Was this it? His longest conversation in forever over? He almost wanted to say something in protest, but he had no idea what to say.

Hiccup leaned over cautiously, as if approaching an injured animal. "You don't have to look so confused and frightened, it's okay" he smiled, interlocking his fingers with Jack's.

Jack looked at their hands and a smile appeared in the corner of his mouth. He had never felt so much warmth from one person. He looked at Hiccup, feeling like an idiot. He had never felt so much... pure wonderfulness and understanding radiating from someone. This guy... was definitely someone he wanted to hold onto for the rest of his life.

...

A/N: Simply because there is always that one amazing supportive person in your life no matter what shit you're going through!


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